


Reconciliation

by HippolytaGale



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Comfort?, F/F, It hurts in the middle but it gets better, Reunion, a little bit of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippolytaGale/pseuds/HippolytaGale
Summary: Blake finally reunites with Yang and the rest of the team. There's anger, and tears, and a little bit of love.





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! So, it's been a really long time since I've written anything. This was going to be a garbage piece that ended up in my recycling bin, because I felt a great need to write it all at once and then destroy it for being so terrible, but I've been drinking tonight and I thought "Fuck it, let others get what they can out of it." SO, know that it is not my best work! It's also out of date with 5x11, but oh well. It feels rushed, and a bit meh, but I think it has a sweet center. I've also been aching for someone to do a reunion fic, and haven't found one yet. So, please forgive the sloppy writing, and enjoy the bees!

In some ways, the night they reunited was similar to the night they first met: Blake was on the floor, reading with intense interest, and when she looked up, Yang was there, and her sister following close behind. 

Of course, this night was wholly different; tonight she was hidden in the treeline outside of Mistral City’s walls reading a White Fang member’s encrypted communique, not a novel, and Yang didn’t stroll up so much as stand in place while Ruby rushed forward. In a flash, Ruby had her all tangled up in a hug, exclaiming how she was glad Blake was safe and how Jaune and the others were here too, but Blake didn’t pay attention to any of that. Her eyes caught the flash of gold below Yang’s right elbow—impossibly, for just a moment she thought the arm was still whole, that a gauntlet gleamed there as it always had before the fall of Beacon, before Adam—but then she noticed the mechanical ball of the wrist joint and the matte planes of black steel. The prosthetic arm disappeared into the rolled cuff of Yang’s leather jacket, and Blake felt a ragged silence swell between her and Yang as Ruby paused.

“What are you doing here?” Yang finally asked with a voice like broken-off flint.

“I came to warn you.” No pretenses. No apologies yet. This wasn’t the place. “Adam is going to attack Haven. I tracked this scout with Sun—”

“Sun’s here too?” Ruby said. “That’s great! Where is he?” Blake thought she could see Yang’s jaw tighten.

“We got separated.” She said. “Can we move this indoors? I don’t know how many—”

A knife danced past her ear and buried itself into the wood of a nearby tree. The three young women dodged three separate ways, and immediately there was light, movement, and deafening sound as the three of them began to decimate the White Fang troopers that had suddenly surrounded them. This too was like the past, Blake noted; even as she moved alone on the edges of the battle, dashing in and out of melee with devastating effect, her ears were always tuned to the ring of steel against armor and the blast of shotgun pellets. At one point Yang called her name, and she turned and knew what needed to happen with one glance: she threw Gambol Shroud and Yang’s hand closed around its grip, the carbon filament ribbon tight between them, and they cleared opponents in a set of concentric circles, trading places to fly into the fray and then pull the other forward to continue the work. They had done this so many times it felt like Blake had never left.

It felt like she had never betrayed Yang’s trust.

When the last soldier fell, Yang let go of her end of the ribbon. It withdrew back into the pommel of Blake’s sword, and for a moment there was only the sound of heavy breathing as Yang adjusted her gauntlet and inserted a new bandolier of ammunition.

“Ruby!” She yelled into the darkness. They both looked at the shadows, but there was nothing.

Yang spared a glance to Blake, then checked her mechanical arm; the palm jerked against some kind of resistance buried in the crevice between it and the ball joint. 

“Damn it,” she muttered. “Ruby!”

“Here!” Ruby bolted through a nearby bush in a flash. “I’m here!” 

“We need to get back to Haven. Qrow can give the order to seal off the city.”

“Those White Fang must be part of an infiltration team,” Blake said. “They would never send such a small number otherwise.”

“Okay, so we seal up and get ready. I’m sure the rest of them will be here soon.”

“And Adam.” Blake added. “Adam was going to oversee the attack personally.”

Yang’s hands slowly curled into fists. She looked through the trees towards the city, her expression unreadable.

“We better hurry,” She finally said, and started walking.

 

 

Yang didn’t speak directly to her about anything on the way to Haven Academy. Inside the living room of the quarters they’d all been sharing, Blake sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs with a cup of tea in her hand and the now-decrypted White Fang communique in front of her. The orders simply gave a timeline and quick list of objectives, mostly involving disabling communications and power for the city, but Qrow had already put the word out to increase security in those sectors. Ruby said their collective suspicion had been raised for days, what with all the missing Huntsmen and general weirdness around Lionheart, and Qrow must’ve already suspected something big was coming, since he was the one who ordered Yang and the others on patrols for the last few nights. Running into the White Fang tonight simply confirmed what they’d all been fearing: a massive attack, and just over the horizon. 

Still, Blake had caught them all by surprise. When they returned to the school, the others had pounced on their long-lost schoolmate; Ruby and Nora were burning with questions, and when Blake told them about the uprising on Menagerie, Weiss asked after Blake’s family with concern. It felt like a lifetime ago already, and their time at Beacon seemed to be even further into the past. She wondered how much time it would take to heal from all of it, from the pain they experienced. But she kept that thought to herself, and answered their questions as best she could. After a few hours the conversations wound down, and Ren and Nora and Jaune went to bed. Weiss made a valiant effort to stay awake as well, but around midnight her head dipped against the side of the wingback chair she sat in, and she fell asleep without a sound.

Now it was just the three of them: Ruby, Yang, and Blake. And Blake sat, tea in hand as always, watching Ruby as she worked to remove the obstruction from Yang’s cybernetic arm.

“I’ve almost got it. It’s wiggling around pretty good, but...” Ruby leaned in close, magnifying glasses perched on her nose, feeling gently with a pair of watchmaker’s tongs and a probe. “Aha! Got it!”

She pulled loose a scrap of metal that gleamed in the light. It was thin and rounded, barely a half inch in length.

“Shattered shell casing, I think. Don’t know how it managed to get in there. Just lucky I guess?” Ruby said, and set it to the side. Yang rotated her hand, trying out different angles with no degree of difficulty, and hummed in approval.

“It’s late,” Ruby said. “I’m going to take Weiss to bed.” She leaned in again, whispering, but Blake could still hear her. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yang asked in her best deadpan. 

Ruby nudged Weiss gently until the other girl woke up, and they went upstairs arm-in-arm. Yang sat in the armchair opposite Blake, the bridge of her foot jammed into the coffee table’s edge. Blake set her tea cup on a nearby end-table. Minutes passed. It felt like a lightning storm was brewing between them, and she had no idea when the first bolt would strike.

“You’re quiet.” Blake said softly.

“So are you.” Yang’s eyes roamed over her, penetrating in their intensity. She felt almost naked under the other woman’s gaze. “You finally lost the bow, I see.”

“Hm? ...Oh, yeah. A lot has happened in the last nine months.”

“Yeah, I bet. I guess I’m just taking it all in.” She took a deep breath. “You know, I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

“Of course you would have,” Blake said. “I...I just needed time to sort things out.”

“I never got the chance to say goodbye—you know, since I was passed out.”

“Yang—”

“I never blamed you for that, Blake. Losing my arm wasn’t your fault—it was mine for being so careless. When I saw him hurt you, I—I had to stop him. I didn’t think. So it’s not your fault, okay?”

“...Okay.” 

“But I wish you hadn’t left. I wish you would’ve stayed with us. With me. Because we’re partners,” She added quickly, “And...” It seemed like she was thinking something else, but didn’t say it. She wiped her eyes, squeezing them shut. Her other hand clenched the fabric of the chair.

“...I’m sorry, Yang.”

“I don’t need your apologies,” She snapped. “I don’t need you to sit here and tell me how sorry you are when you could’ve fixed all of it. You could’ve stayed.”

“I know.”

Silence descended again. It was torture. Yang stood and walked outside, and Blake followed ten or twenty feet behind. It was cooler out here; Blake’s cheeks felt hot, and she imagined Yang’s probably felt the same. Hotter, even; she always burned with a fiercer fire that what Blake ever felt. But it was better out here, in the chilled night air, with only the shadows and a scrap of moonlight to hear what was sure to be an upsetting conversation. Yang stopped in the middle of the square, her hands stuffed in her pockets and staring at the broken moon.

“It’s stupid.” Yang said suddenly.

“What?”

“I’ve thought about the first day of school a lot—the first day in the Emerald Forest, when we became partners. When I fought those Ursa, you came out of the trees to help me. You chose me. No one’s ever chosen me before. I wanted to believe that meant something.”

Of course it meant something, Blake thought. It meant more than anything else had in a long time. Yang continued.

“But I was stupid, because it didn’t matter. And when you came to the dance, that didn’t matter. None of it did, but I think I built it up into something it wasn’t.” She paused. “‘I think I made you up inside my head.’ That was the poem in the book you suggested, wasn’t it?”

“ _Mad Girl’s Love Song_ , yes.”

“Yeah, that’s it. So, even though I’m really fucking mad at you at leaving, I shouldn’t be. I’m the one who put all this significance on it—I’m the one with the abandonment complex. I’m the one who’s broken. I should just be happy you’re back. I should be here for you, like Weiss and Ruby are. It shouldn’t matter anymore.” She kicked a rock across the square, shattering it. “But it _does_.” She turned, eyes glowing scarlet. “Do you understand? It does. It’s like two vices are clamped here, and they’re just—” 

She pulled at the lapels of her jacket, straining the buttons. With a cry she tore them loose, yanking her coat off one sleeve at a time before crumpling it into a ball and hurling it into a nearby tree. She lowered herself down into a crouch, clenching and unclenching her fists in her hair. At some point, her hands slid down to cover her face, and her breathing hitched as she began to cry.

“Yang,” Blake stepped forward, reaching for her. 

“I’m fine!” She said, looking up with red eyes. She rubbed her nose and stood, turning her back to her. “I’m fine.”

Blake froze, waiting. She needed to listen, she knew that, but hearing Yang cry—it was more than she could bear. At some point she couldn’t take it anymore; she circled around her, and every time Yang took a step back, she took a step forward. Blake knew she couldn’t run from this. She had to face the pain she had caused.

“Those things did matter, Yang.” She said. “I know I...don’t always say what’s on my mind, but being with you...It opened me up to so many things I thought I had forgotten. The way you could make me laugh, or when you checked in on me, those moments always meant something to me.” They were safety and security. They were love. “They always mattered.”

“If they did, you wouldn’t have left. Don’t try to paint this up into something it’s not—what you did was selfish. You were scared, and you just ran!”

“God damn it, do you think I wanted to leave?! Do you think it was easy?!” Blake shouted. Tears began to sting her eyes as well. “I didn’t _want_ to go, but I did because it was the right thing to do.”

“How!? How was that the right thing to do?”

“Adam will always be after me—he will always try to hurt the people I care about. It’s my fault he hurt you; he said he would destroy everyone I loved.”

“You didn’t have to be alone. I was here for you. We were all here for you.”

“But I couldn’t risk you! Not again!”

“Why not? Why couldn’t you let me be there?”

_Because I’m in love with you, you idiot,_ she wanted to say, but didn’t. She was only able to say it once: when Yang was passed out, waiting to be loaded into the airship that would evacuate them both from Vale. Blake held her hand, whispered it into her ear, and kissed her goodbye. She couldn’t say it again. It was too painful.

“If he hurt you again, I would never forgive myself, and I couldn’t let you die. Some people are just meant to be alone, Yang.”

“Not you!” She shouted. She stood there as rigid as stone, fighting back another flush of tears. “Not you,” She said quietly.

After a moment, Yang rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand, and then, as if remembering, untied the handkerchief tied around her neck. She bridged the gap between them and carefully, as if Blake were a bird that would fly away with any sudden movement, brought the cloth to her eyes and wiped away her tears. It was too much; Blake surged into her, throwing her arms around her neck, crying fierce hot tears into the other shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” She cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Yang’s arms tightened around her, and one hand crept up to cup the back of her head. Blake fought for breath; between the lump in her throat and the stuffiness of her nose, she couldn’t find words for several minutes. Yang’s hug almost made it worse—she’d forgotten the ache of missing her until now. 

“Blake,” Yang whispered. She kissed her cheek. “Hey, Blake.”

“Hmm?” She sniffed.

“I’m sorry too. I’ve been lost in my own misery for awhile. I never stopped to think about how you felt. You aren’t meant to be alone, Blake.” Yang murmured into her hair. “It breaks my heart when you say that.”

“I poison everything I touch,” She sobbed.

“No, you don’t. You don’t.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“I know. I know.” She pulled away and held Blake’s face in her hands. “Hey, let’s go inside. You’re freezing out here.”

And hand in hand, they went.

 

 

Blake sat on the sofa with a blanket around her shoulders, and more tea in a cup between her hands. Yang sat next to her, her real arm slung over her shoulders. Blake stared into the reflection inside her cup.

“I don’t deserve this.” She said finally.

“You deserve everything.” Yang replied, and touched her forehead to Blake’s temple. 

“I know I can’t fix it. I can’t change what I’ve done; I’ve hurt you, and it was wrong. But Yang, I will do everything I can to make it better. I promise.”

“You don’t have to promise me anything, okay? I believe you. It hurt when you left more than anything, but I still love you, you know? And I always will.”

And just like that, Blake got what she thought she could never have: forgiveness. It made fresh tears fall all over again. She brought her free hand to her eyes, overcome.

“Hey, whoa, whoa!” Yang cried, suddenly worried. “Was it okay for me to tell you that? Because I do love you. You’re my friend, and, you know, I...uh, care about you a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

“Yes,” Blake said. “Yes, it was okay.” She tucked herself into Yang’s side again, her drink forgotten on the coffee table. “Can we stay here tonight?”

“You sure you don’t want a bed?” Blake shook her head. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

And after awhile, and some settling down, they fell asleep together on the sofa. And just before sleep pulled her away, Blake’s hand found Yang’s, and she squeezed it with a promise.

_Never again,_ she thought. _I will never leave you again._

And so it was.


End file.
